“Get on Kim Jongin’s good side.” That’s what Zitao’s friend Luhan had advised when the younger had voiced his wish to be more well-liked by the other students. Said students had given him the nickname Tao The Killer, which didn’t exactly do anything to better his reputation. “Jongin is the school’s Golden Child. People adore him. Befriend him and you’ll be instantly popular.”
“But ge,” Zitao had immediately objected with a whine, causing the other to let out a groan of exasperation because unlike certain other individuals Luhan isn’t susceptible to Zitao’s sickening overflow of cuteness. “I barely know any Korean, how am I supposed to do that?”
In response Luhan had patted the younger male harshly on the shoulder and said in a tone that could fool anyone into thinking that he wasn’t a demon in disguise: “Body language, Zitao.”
Straddling a naked Jongin on a chair in his room does categorize as some form of body language, Zitao supposes, however he’s pretty sure that’s not what Luhan meant when he made the suggestion. But that’s exactly where he is now. His long, lean legs are placed on either side of Jongin’s thighs with his feet firmly planted on the floor for balance and his arms are loosely wound around Jongin’s shoulders as he licks his way into the younger male’s mouth.
Jongin has the lips of a fucking pufferfish or something like that. They feel as good against Zitao’s own lips as they feel wrapped around his cock, he knows that from experience now. He can still taste remnants of his own cum that linger on Jongin’s tongue from when Zitao suddenly found himself pushed against the wall on their way to this room so Jongin could suck him off.
The latter curses when they come up for air. “How did we even get here?” he asks weakly.
“I don’t know,” the other rasps, one of his most used Korean phrases along with probably ‘food’ and 'I’m hungry’. Honestly he doesn’t remember either, all he gets when he tries to recall is flashes of clothes being shed and lips and tongues meeting over and over and over, but that’s it. He’s pretty sure that the worrying amounts of alcohol they both ingested earlier that night has something to do with both their current position and their memory loss. It’s not really that important to him.
He digs his canines into an expanse of skin that stretch out, warm and golden, between Jongin’s neck and shoulder. Jongin’s hands that are splayed out on his thighs twitch. His eyebrows do as well. Zitao’s tongue darts out to lap soothingly and a little apologetically at the swelling bitemark. A hand fists in his hair and then their lips mold together again while the other hand comes to a rest on the middle of his back in an attempt to pull him closer. Zitao shifts and their erections slide against each other and Jongin groans because unlike Zitao he hasn’t had his release yet. “Fuck.”
“Okay,” Zitao says with a nod. He knows what that means, he can do that. The other’s bleary eyes widen a bit as Zitao grapples for one of his hands, the one on his back, sliding it up his body to slip three fingers into his mouth and Jongin looks like he has some kind of words ready at the tip of his tongue threatening to spill, but they never do. Apart from the groans he lets out once in a while he remains mostly quiet as Zitao slicks his fingers with saliva.
Fortunately he seems to know where to go from there. He works one, two, three fingers inside and distracts a frowning, squirming Zitao with lazy, openmouthed kisses as he does so. The emptiness that remains when he pulls the fingers out makes Zitao hiss because it’s unpleasant. He raises himself up a bit, enough to grab Jongin’s cock and position it so he can impale himself on it, slowly. Jongin throws his head back. Zitao takes the opportunity to attach his lips to his exposed throat.
It doesn’t take long from the time when Zitao has sat down fully to the time he starts moving. It’s slow at first but soon he’s bouncing in Jongin’s lap with the help of Jongin’s hands gripping his hips tightly, lifting him and letting him drop in the rhythm they’ve worked out. The saliva isn’t enough, Zitao can tell and he can also tell that he’s going to be sore tomorrow. At the moment he doesn’t care. The pleasure is swiftly overriding the pain so he doesn’t care.
“How do you say 'faster’ in Chinese?” Jongin breathlessly asks out of nowhere. Zitao almost laughs at the sudden question, but after searching his alcohol-numbed brain he manages to mutter the Mandarin version of the word. Jongin butchers it completely when he repeats it back to him. Zitao doesn’t care about that either, he gets the point anyway, so he merely complies, picking up his pace and he presses his lips to Jongin’s and his cock is rubbing against Jongin’s stomach and his eyes are rolling back because it feels so fucking good.
Jongin cums first. He spills inside of the other, but he still helps Zitao move even after his member has stopped twitching. The older male’s movements are soon reduced to slow rolls of his hips as he focuses more on the feeling of Jongin’s abs under his own cock that is sandwiched between them. Zitao cums almost soundlessly with his head thrown back as his release smears on both of their stomachs and he keeps moving until the waves of pleasure stop crashing over him. Once he has ridden his orgasm out - quite literally - he slumps over, panting heavily into Jongin’s neck.
It takes a few minutes for him to pull himself together. He sits upright again. Jongin’s back muscles flex under his palms and he looks so deliciously spent, glancing at Zitao from under heavy lids, mouth hanging open and breathing still ragged. Zitao kisses his swollen lips before peeling himself off the other. He can feel cum trickling down his thigh and he scrunches up his face. He feels disgusting. “Shower?” he asks in accented Korean. “Where?”
Limp-bodied Jongin gestures towards a closed door. “In there.”
Zitao smiles. “Come?” Despite looking completely worn-out Jongin gives the other male’s still naked body an appreciative onceover. He lets out a long breath. Then he gets off the chair and stumbles towards the bathroom and Zitao follows him inside, smile still in place. Even if this wasn’t exactly what Luhan had in mind it should definitely do the trick. Getting a good lay out of it is just an added bonus.